Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Oy. We both mumble a bit and slip into a hoarse Sotte Voce derision of each other’s choices. Why don’t murder victims stay dead? Half the time we are told ludicrous backstories.

It must be hard out there for an assassin. It happens so often that one of us always predicts: Oh, he’ll be back. Years ago, on One Life to Live, there was once a long-lost brother to a Llanview Grande Dame.

Half a year into his storyline, he was killed off. He drove his sport scar into a the side of a big “Big Rig”. His fate? He was decapitated, reminiscent of Jayne Mansfield’s end. A few years later, that very character just rolled into town to liven up those lost scenes.

Yes, I must be strong. I best avoid CNN. Those 10pm shows of yesterday still prompt my viewing:

Monday was Medical Center Night. Tuesday brought Marcus Welby MD. Oh, how I am indeed becoming my parents with their Hal/Margy peccadillos. Sure, I claim all the differences, improvements, and more recent popular trends. But Polly and I are so much like our parents … except for social skills and temperment.

So, in closing, I confess my more casual trespasses. But I’ve already deeply-analyzed my issues. And that’s when I fall into the Persian Blue abyss that holds my dreams.

I may study the sky … imagining a kingdom of clouds. I seed turrets, fountains, and windows. I find myself trying to peek in. And therein my blog post begins to take form.

Meta

The sandbox is always open, my friends, for those that want to share eclectic musings, surrealist images, and aural delights. I detect the melody of the written word and can visualize the beat in the song. That's perhaps why I think in ringtones and post in sound-bites.
But, most of all, I celebrate the moments and the small splendors that enrich our soul. My name is Mark Sieber, middle name of Dylan. But I answer to Vlad.
The long driveway here at Marklewood is flanked by large bronze urns of yellow peonies & azure-blue lobelia. Behind it is a meandering creek lined with ancient willows. And if we run scarce of provisions, there is always the bait shop down the dirt road.
My spirit navigates freely from that of Pied Piper to bookworm, from Lord Fauntleroy to that of a Bohemian crusader. You best pour a healthy cup of robust coffee or a glass of pinot noir. Kick off your dirty bucks and find a comfy seat.
I am a disengaged designer, obsessive scribe, and perennial recidivist currently living in the hinterlands of Raleigh, North Carolina.
Jon and I strive to be kind and to seek out those moments of hope that energizes the spirit that breathes both life and magic into Marklewood. He and I are both retired.
Yes, we have pets here at Marklewood: a dozen at most recent census. I refer to them fondly as the Twelve Noble & Apostolic Pusses, but they are much more than any label or moniker would suggest. All are indeed rescues or "next generosity" progeny, with four having been elevated to "indoor" status: Henry, Pfluffer, Hermione, and Claudja. The other eight serve sentry here in the stillness of an ancient pine woods.
Alas, poor Tartuffe has been missing since May of '10. Legend has it that he has embarked on some grand theatrical adventure, perhaps in New York or London's West End. But I like to think that his spirit hovers over head, and guards Marklewood against fear, dread, sadness, hatred and the small-mindedness that sadly taints and diminishes our humanity.
Often, the most potent of inspiration is found in random human connections, unexpected art finds, and the magic that cloaks our world.
"I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.” -- Arthur Rimbaud

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.

Henry’s and My Quirky Anecdotes and Reminiscences. We Seek Nourishment for the Soul, a Hope Made New Again, and Those Exquisite Artistic Finds That Can Stir One’s Loins. Of Course, We Still Search for the Prodigal Tartuffe Who Joined the French Feline Legion Many Moons Ago. We Have Yet to Receive Either the Slightest Word or a Lone Cardinal Feather.